Kitten to a Tiger
by Beenie
Summary: Translated excerpt from my story "Die neue Seite" (The new Side). House gets to know Chase from scratch after his young lover had suffered severe brain injury. PWP if you squint.


**Kitten to a Tiger**

_**A/N:**__ A teensy weensy silly bit taken from my story _"Die neue Seite."

_House has to cope with a mentally altered Chase after he had suffered a severe rock climbing accident that has put him into a current state of vacancy. House decides to take custody because he feels it was partly his fault what happened to Chase. And of course he loves Chase and tries to figure out a cure for him._

* * *

House's favorite part of their treatment included watching Hollywood classics from the 1940s and '50s. Chase's mother had dwelled in it, built up her dream world in Dorothy's Kansas and shared it with her son who had escaped all too willingly for a few fun hours the dreariness of his arduous daily life.

Most likely they had watched musicals in a row several times. _An American in Paris, The Wizard of Oz._

However Chase remained apathetic. Nothing provoked anything, no scene, no song. Even the lucky star didn't trigger any reaction he had hoped for.

Occasionally, he would slant his head against House's shoulder and fell asleep where he was snoring softly, drooling on his shirt.

It did not bother House, and he sat through the film until the end, while a feverish Gene Kelly in his mind danced in the rain.

It was_ Casablanca _that caused a major twist. Once again, Chase had fallen asleep on the sofa, but by the end of the movie he was lucid and watched the farewell to Humphrey Bogart and Ingrid Bergman at the airport with sharp, almost tense interest, as House had not seen in him since the accident. On tenterhooks, he peeked at Chase's delicate profile.

"…still have - Paris", the boy stammered, reiterating Bogart's s pithy farewell speech.

Overwhelmed by something that House couldn't perceive, Chase knelt on the side of the cushion and placed a wet kiss on the older man's cheekbone.

"You remember", he whispered, anxious in turmoil and surprise. "You remember Paris? When we were there and I–... when we made love?"

"Love mm-...", he said on his cheek, letting his tongue wander over his throat. House felt a shiver running down his scalp and spine. Just that his words were still there - though pretty adventurous pronounced - put him in frenzy.

_Love me. Fuck me._

"You want me to?" God, he hopefully asked not too much of him.

He had to swallow to express himself and could not believe his luck. His entire future life he would gratefully drop down to his knees in front of a one-dimensional Humphrey Bogart if Chase was to agree to his daring proposal.

"You want me to make love to you?"

"Mm ..."

It was all he needed to say. What he was short of in eloquence since the accident, he made up for with awaiting gestures. He straddled him, almost a little bashful with his eyes downcast, while his hands fumbled at the collar of the shirt and finally skimmed underneath.

House sat still, concentrating on his own heart beat. Only by his touch, his timid touch that came to know him again, he felt his sexual arousal to be increased.

The silkiness of his skin and the musky sweat, the beguiling scent and feel of both he desperately wanted to linger in, drown in it.

He wanted to reward his courage by the book, although he was so starved for his sensuality that he believed it was all alone his being there that would make him come without warning.

It should not go on like that, in a hurry, explosive, focused only on how to reach orgasm, because there was much more. It had always been.

Time was not an aspect in their relationship. He wanted to enjoy it, to give in gradually and bring out the best for his intrepid lover. To make it special for them both.

Chase realized his intent as he pushed a bit away from him. He pulled his shirt over his head, provocative hesitantly, to return to tend to him and feel him while his hands rushed down his hips, then trailed forward and gently caressed the bulge in his jeans. The laughing sound he gave as he deciphered House's reaction was incredibly sexy. Self conscious and almost triumphant.

It was still just a game, not too serious, but he was getting harder and goaded by the need to open his pants. However, he might alert and stop Chase by speeding things up.

His breathing became faster and shallow as House stroked alongside Chase's throat and neck and finally kissed the valley between the clavicles.

Seizing Chase's armpits, he got to his feet.

The couch seemed too commonplace for their physical reunion. Also, they would most likely end up on the floor because of its narrow size.

Without further ado, he headed with him for the hallway. They staggered into a small detour to the stereo like in a drunken, deliberate courtship dance.

With the boy leaning into his body, he could sense the heat rising and his powerful fingers on his jeans. Giving a growling sound, Chase tugged at the placket. It wasn't a disgruntled noise, but one that revealed his willingness and his greed. Greed for him, to his magic touch, his intimacy.

The response he had already gained the moment Chase had remembered Paris.

Without paying attention, he reached for the CD player behind him. Miraculously, he managed to twirl the disk and turned up the volume.

_Nights in White Satin._

If this was not twist of fate, what then?

Suddenly Chase squirmed and dug his face on his shoulder with a half-nervous, half anguished sob. His warm hand was on his crotch, crawled further down, after he had pulled down the pants.

Between his fingers and House, there was only the thin cotton fabric of the boxers.

Holding his breath for a moment, House tilted his head before he turned back to Chase who had ventured so bold and brave a push.

Like in a dream that he never wanted to wake up from, he slowed down the pace of their dance, ran his dry lips resiliency over Chase's left eye and the delicate, crescent-shaped scar below, while he rummaged through his shiny hair and tore at the blond wisp.

Chase averted his face. Tears sprang into his lower eyelids, but he didn't stop.

"Whoa. Changes are you don't have much of me if you're rushing it... ", he murmured in his ear. "Ssh... Trust old age. You've done it before. Taking it slow is just as good."

Instinctively, he pressed his body close to him, stuck House's shoulder blade between the sternum and chin and stroked and groped his naked back with a fervor that veiled House's view.

In spite of the open window, the air in the bedroom was more oppressive as they entered, but he could not assess whether the heat stemmed from outside or from their intertwined limbs.

With his sweet, lively freight which he had cradled his arm around and covered his neck, he maneuvered toward the bed, which was covered in fact with satin sheets, but at least no white ones. He almost laughed out in grim anticipation. They would not be white for any longer.

When he laid him down on the bed and tickled his foot to get him a little off his exhilaration and his own, he shrieked, his leg bent before he kicked at him playfully.

However, he remained where he was and appraised him breathing heavily after Chase had crawled back into the middle of the squeaky mattress.

His eyes sparkled with joy and expectancy, while a strand of hair dark stressed the course of his cheekbone. Behind the half-open, rosy lips, his teeth were gleaming.

He could bite like a wild animal and was not too shy to do it if he felt threatened or sank into ecstasy.

House approached him on all fours like a hunter his prey. His bad leg and the pain were forgotten.

Only Chase had meaning, waiting there on the bed for his attack. Chase, who wanted him and loved him and never disappointed him, neither on a professional nor sexual basis.

_Feel free to go ahead._

Intending to take the edge of the situation and to ease the erotically charged tension, House contrived a few attacks on him that were acknowledged each time with a loud, unrestrained laughter.

Dizzy from his perfect vision, the moisture of his skin and the aroma of musk and dedication, House closed his eyes and finally reached for him, but he stepped back to the side, and he let him go.

If he needed time, he should have as much as he needed. As much as House could afford him to (which, truth be told, wasn't that much anymore).

When he opened his eyes again, Chase had turned over on his stomach and lifted his hips in an unambiguous offer.

He could not help but to peel him off his shorts as quickly as possible, although he was still determined to postpone their sexual encounter, to celebrate it like it was the first time. It seemed like ages ago the last time they had slept together.

Nevertheless, with Chase, care was and had always been required. Owed to his young age, he'd have a tendency to impulsivity, which sometimes went by far too fast with him.

On the other hand, he just found this element as particularly attractive because it challenged him to pace himself.

He let his tongue trail over the sweet, flirtatious slight pits on Chase's backside right above his buns, and the boy moaned, his fingers clenched and relaxed, crumpled the sheet and pulled it off the corner of the mattress.

To his delight, he found no abnormal tone or spasm, which led him to the foolhardy, not very serious consideration to round off every evening with him this way.

Among the rhythmic, reciprocal yet harmonious movements of the flanks and his caress deepened the dimples on his backside, which made him mad and too euphoric to the charm of the rare physical features.

Therefore he left reluctantly with a last, contemplative kiss, to worship the next miracle on the anatomic map by Robert Chase's, the alluring solid rosy hill that lifted temptingly to him.

It was new and excessive that he acted without the usual playfulness, which he established with ongoing pleasure. That he could let go without this principle so unconditionally he had not dared to hope for.

Calmer than he felt, he covered the narrow hips and buttocks with kisses, licked at the base of the furrow and reveled in the sharp, salty flavor of his skin, which mingled with his own to an individual, unfiltered perfume that no one else would ever smell.

If somehow he could keep it, he would be the happiest man alive.

He heard Chase whimpering at once. A sound caused by fear of the unknown, because he no longer had him in sight.

It was strange to give it a second thought, but presumably the given situation was more unfamiliar to Chase than to House.

Any proof that he actually remembered their visit to Paris, he had not at hand.

He even wasn't sure whether Chase recognized him. Not once he had called him by his name. All the more reason there was to go ahead cautiously. To guide him slowly.

He was sizzling and so much in the hots for him that he had to fight with himself, restraining desperately in order not to explode.

The almost feminine shaped, tanned shoulder he was getting hold of turned docile in the rotation, the slim body followed. But his winking glance asked in a way that caused an inexplicable melancholy in House and briefly dampened his enthusiasm. Inside, he was still the shy, bashful choirboy.

"I want to watch you. See your eyes so you can see mine. Make it better. Better than before", he said, his voice about to break with emotion. The pupils in the green-blue eyes dilated with surprise.

He understood. _He got it!_

"I want to see how you feel. If you're into dirty talk, that's okay. Dirty works for me."

Instead of answering, Chase put his arms around him. Obviously, he didn't understand after all. His abdomen pushed in definite intention against his, while he entangled his legs with his left and led him into the rhythm of his pelvis.

It was so overwhelming that House imprudently thought it to be the natural way to become one with him, without doing anything.

It was Chase how he got to know him. He did not want to be conquered, but to learn trust and love and give it back on a multiple level.

The only thing which he was capable of at that moment of their vibrating bodies was an aggressive approach on his unrestrained, saliva drenched mouth. Even that took him because it was original and primitive and indecent. He wanted to kiss any excess drops from the soft, savory mucosa.

Chase finally let go off him, but it was even better, because he allowed him traveling around, offered him the miracle of his body, and he marveled at his naked unblemished skin in gratitude as he slipped lower.

As a result of it, Chase nervously moved his hips in slight circles, unable to lie still. House licked the sweet, smooth chest down to the navel and greedily inhaled the astringent scent that emerged from his groin.

Meanwhile, he pulsated below waistline like hell, but he wanted to be sure that it was good for Chase, that he gave him no distress.

And then he remembered that he had forgotten the lube in the bathroom cabinet. Damn it! Once again, he would not be able to get it. Definitely not at this very moment. He would not be able to wait much longer, and Chase demonstrated signs for severe agitation.

Now it was nothing more but his overconfident promise to let it be better. Hopefully, he at least was able to deliver that promise. He had never felt so much bliss and such a strong pressure, although he believed the same every time during and after having sex with him.

Calm on the outside, hungry and yet spellbound he fawned Chase's belly and the sweaty, so delicate-feeling hair-line to the pubic area, which showed him the way downwards.

He was a feast which he enjoyed with all his senses. Raising his head just for a second if asked to seemed an impossibility. He wanted to touch him and inhale him. To fuck him until he would fell asleep from exhaustion on Chase fluctuating stomach.

Slowly, so as not to scare him, he put his hand under his butt cheeks, expanded them gently until the hidden anxiety in the more and more relaxing muscles subsided.

_I love you. I'm sorry that you can't feel it the way I do. You have to tell me if you feel uncomfortable about this._

Sweat was streaming down his face, but he pushed himself up on the gorgeous convulsive abdominal muscles, and Chase followed from what his body but not his distant mind fathomed.

It was sensational and exciting, even more so. Words for what he felt, to which he headed, they had to be invented.

Chase hung on to his chest in a violent wave of enthusiasm as he went further and began to thrust into him more vigorously now. The pressure that numbed his limbs was so tight that he was afraid it would break every bone in him. Nevertheless, it increased his passion, the throbbing sensation.

Amazed and relieved at the same time Chase groaned and tore at his hair and wriggled under him before arching his back. He sought for something (_anything_), found the pillow and hurled it through space with a liberating howl.

Oh, it was great. Ecstatic. Rampant. Indescribable.

He had never heard such a pleasurable cry from Chase's throat at the onset, never had seen him so hot and intemperate.

Alternately smooth and rough the extraordinary tight inner muscle worked his cock, dragged him down into a vortex of pure desire and happiness.

Nowhere else he'd just be received. He could spot it in the young, seductive pretty face; his longing, lustful pain still came so charming and eager over him that House didn't see the need to slow down.

His first plan to compose it quiet and gentle was prevented from Chase with a vehemence that deprived him of his senses, made it forgotten completely. He even did not know whom of them took over the leading part.

After stretching out, Chase arched his back and struggled to not lose him as if he expected. Small, demanding noises came from the back of his throat.

_Don't go. Don't leave me._

_How could I? There's no need to fight. I'm here.  
_

As he leaned forward, Chase reciprocated his notion impatiently and excited, without withdrawing, without hesitation or the fear to do anything wrong.

Dynamically, his hipbone rubbed against his, stimulated him, and House groaned and shifted with the effort to feel it thoroughly. In a new wave of ecstasy immersing over him, he rolled Chase flat on his back, where he fulfilled his wish to go all the way up to his most sensitive spot, to work him more vigorously.

He wouldn't want to miss the range of feelings for the world that Chase revealed, although he kept his eyes closed.

Silently moving his lips, he reached his first orgasm with a deep moan as he manhandled him. The earlier disrespect not to have watched his face during sex left a big gap, and he vowed to want to watch him whenever he was so devoted and so desirable.

The attractive face, moved by both pain and pleasure, glistened with sweat and exposed a passion that seemed almost too unearthly to have been realized by House alone. And yet, he felt so proud and confident that he was about sure to make him unravel forever. He never wanted him out of the bedroom.

His delicate, straight eyebrows rose as his body trembled, and he clasped his hands into fists.

Filled with overflowing endorphins, House kissed him soothingly, but Chase kept thrashing in sheer delight, which made it difficult for him to meet his lips. His mouth snapped at him, sucked him in and wrapped him in the aphrodisiac scent of ripe fruit.

Under the kiss itself Chase's strong legs closed around his waist, making his sphincter tight again, surrounding him firmly. As he eagerly, almost recklessly slid deeper, Chase's heel dug deep into his lower back while his nails scratched over House's back.

Like two long lost souls they found each other. House reeled unerringly towards his goal like a man dying of thirst spotting his oasis, protected in a hidden vault, that no other man ever would be permitted to enter. That was reserved only for him.

Chase wasn't done yet – bless his youth and sensitivity.

His constant screams of joy probably would startle the neighbors and made them talk, however, House didn't recoil because his young lover was fascinating and sensational in his lack of discipline, and more magnificent than he would ever believed him to be.

Not at his the best, not the cherry on top - because with a bit of luck there was more sex to come in the future - but it was by far the craziest experience that they had shared.

The unbridled response surprised him anyway. He could not think clearly, not in the heat of the moment.

In order to get rid of the pressure, he let out a loud pant that sounded more like a euphoric roar when he released his gushing ejaculate inside him and then buckled over the other man, shaking and wheezing, blind for the world.

At the same time, Chase stretched every fiber of his body, reared up and yelping, full of contentment and satisfaction.

* * *

For a long while, they remained striking the pose in which they collapsed, House on top of the slender boy, besieged, gasping for air.

House couldn't think of anything to say to Chase, so he kept nibbling the sensual lips until he knew they'd be swollen and sore and marked for the rest of the night.

If Chase didn't continue clutching to his neck, if the scent of their merged sex wasn't so remarkably present in the soggy sheets and on both their skin, he'd be at the verge of losing his common sense.

Chase wasn't just a kid that lost his bright mind due to an ill-fated rock climbing accident. Not only his responsibility.

It pleased him to work out what was hidden underneath the shell. The irony in itself brought a twisted smile to his face as he combed back Chase's disheveled sweaty hair with his fingers.

"Apparently, I never really knew you", he said hoarsely, caressing Chase's forehead. "Maybe change isn't so bad after all."

Closing his eyes, Chase sighed and rolled over on his side.

As he dozed off, House could have sworn to hear him purr like a complacent cat basking in the sun.

His kitten was a tiger.


End file.
